The oceans of ourselves breathe below the churning night, turning waters rouse floating leaves of summer Waves of once quieted regret, propelling them to embrace sending smells of time echoing wordlessly into, the submerged caverns of memories depths’to sights unseen but by shapes of tears mourning under a never aging silent sky. Here airy spirits from our past, now are unafraid, finally shall dreamers of desire touch, unphased. In such meetings though never yet before, love’s found, only to vanish in forgotten dreams.

Sorry I got here late. Would have liked seeing the word “turgid” used in a poem. Just out of curiosity. I don’t know what it means but it sounds very biological. I’m too old for romantic intentions toward one as young as yourself, but not for romantic fantasies. I am very young at heart. I liked this poem a lot. Perhaps to make it more universal you could replace “unphased” with “unaffected”. But I love it as it is.